


You're Still Our Brothers

by feralfansie



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28533441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralfansie/pseuds/feralfansie
Summary: Three different examples of brotherly love
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	You're Still Our Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> TW: mentions of death, blood, and abuse

If Davey had said that this was the first time he had woken up to quiet sobs at an ungodly hour of the night, he’d be lying. He groaned, turning to his other side to face his little brother. 

“Hey…” He lightly shook his shoulder, trying to get him to wake up. The poor kid had been having nightmares almost every night ever since the strike. It pained Davey to think about what they may be about. “Les! Wake up. it’s not real.” He shook his brother’s shoulder again. “You’re ok. It’s alright.”

The kid woke with a jolt, sitting up in their shared bed. His cheeks were wet, and his eyes were wide. Davey’s face softens. He often forgets how young his brother really is. 

“D-Davey?” Les’s voice was shaky. 

“It’s me, you're ok.” The older boy comforted as his eyes got adjusted to the darkness of the room. He goes to put a hand on his brother’s back, but before he gets the chance, Les wraps him in a weak embrace. Davey rests his chin on the top of his brother’s head, gently rubbing his back and whispering comforting words. The kid eventually stops shaking, relaxing against Davey’s torso.

“Thank you…” he whispers, pulling away. Davey ruffles Les’s hair, earning a small protest from the ten-year-old. 

“Did you want to talk about it?” Les thinks for a moment before shaking his head. The idea of remembering what the dream was about seemed to frighten him. Davey nods, laying back down. “Well, do you need anything?”

“Water?” 

“Of course.” Davey pulls himself out of bed, cringing at the creaking floorboards underneath him. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He starts to walk towards the kitchen, but Les grabs his wrist before he gets too far.

“D-don't leave me...please…” He begs, a terrified expression on his face. It’s now that Davey realizes what the dreams have been about.

Les was dreaming about losing his brother during the strike.

After the bulls had attacked them in Newsie Square, Davey couldn't find his brother for hours. They had gotten separated while they fled the scene. He was terrified. It never occurred to him how scared Les must have been.

“Hey, I’m not leaving you, don’t worry.” He grabs the younger boy’s other hand. “You’re stuck with me.” Davey jokes, poking his younger brother in the stomach. Les playfully slaps him in the arm for revenge. “Okay! Okay! Let's get your water.” He chuckled, glad that his brother had cheered up a little. 

The two of them quietly creeped to the kitchen, trying not to wake any of the other residents. Les takes a seat at their dining table while Davey grabs a glass and fills it up with tap water. 

“Here ya go.” He places the cup in front of Les, who takes it gratefully. “Anything else?” The younger kid shakes his head, finishing off the glass. “Alright then. Bed.” 

It isn't long before the two of them are back in the comfort of their own bed. Well, their shared bed. They don't get their own bed. Despite the will to fall asleep, Davey makes sure that his brother is asleep and safe before even trying to fall asleep. He can't help but smile as his brother lightly snores.

••••••••••••••••••

Jack was on the verge of breaking the paintbrush in his hand and screaming. He couldn't do that though, as paintbrushes were expensive and it was three in the morning.

Crutchie often slept on the roof with Jack. He loved the fresh air, the view, and spending time with his brother. However, he didn't love the times where Jack would stay up all night working. 

Race never really slept much. None of the newsies did, no matter how hard they tried. There were always nightmares, uncomfortable mattresses, and more. But Race almost never slept. Every time he closed his eyes, bad memories came flooding back to him, so it was best to keep his eyes open.

He remembers the times where Jack would take him up to the roof when he couldn't sleep. Running a hand through his hair, he makes his way off of his bunk as quietly as possible.

Sure enough, the cowboy and Crutchie were up there, like they always were. But something was different. There was tension in the air. Race and Crutchie charge a knowing glance before looking back at Jack.

There was a sickness spreading around the lodge like wildfire. No one quite knew what it was. First, Elmer got it. Then Romeo, then Finch, and many more followed. 

However, they all recovered. All except one.

One kid, Laces, got his hard with the disease. She was so young and fragile, she didn't have much of a chance. She passed away two days ago. Everyone mourned the loss of the kid, but Jack couldn't help but blame himself for her death. After all, he was supposed to watch after her, right? 

Race walks over to the older boy, sitting next to him. Jack was just staring at a blank canvas. No painting, just staring. It wasn't like him. Crutchie moves to the other side of Jack, wrapping a hand around his shoulders. Jack tenses up at the touch, but soon relaxes once he realizes who it is. Race grabs his hands and rests his head on his brother’s shoulder.

The touch slightly calmed Jack. It reminded him of when the three of them could cuddle as kids. Before any of the other boys came. Jack, Race, and Crutchie were the only ones that are still at the lodge now. Everyone else that lived in the lodge at the time had aged out or died.

Like Laces did…

Jack couldn't stop the tears that fell. Luckily, Race and Crutchie were in no place to judge. They had both cried after hearing the news. Hell, they were both on the verge of tears in this very moment.

No one said a word. They just cried together in silence. It was somehow comforting. No one wanted to talk about it. No words needed to be exchanged. The three boys eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.

It would be okay. They’d be okay.

••••••••••••••

It pained Oscar to think about what was happening behind that door. The door to his brother’s bedroom. 

Morris had disobeyed an order this morning. That meant that Wiesel was punishing him. Hurting him. He wanted to run in there and scream at his uncle, but he knew that wasn't smart. He couldn't let his emotions get the best of him. Not now.

As soon as he saw that disgusting excuse for a man leave his brother’s room, he rushed to grab a first aid kit. Sure enough, once he opened the door, he was greeted to a bruised and bloodied Morris with tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“I’m here.” Oscar said, breathily, as he ran over to his brother. “Where did he get ya?” His brother’s big, brown eyes stared back at him. They were bloodshot and swollen. 

“O..Os…” Morris forced out. Oscar sighs and pulls out a cloth from the kit, wiping away blood. The injuries didn't seem as bad once you washed away the blood, but they certainly didn't look good. Morris was out of it for the most part.

“Anywhere else I need to know about?” Oscar asked once he had finished wiping the places he could see. The younger boy nods, pointing to his back. When Morris turned over, Oscar could see the blood soaked through his shirt. He turns around, making sure that Wiesel was nowhere near, before working on the cuts on his brother’s back.

After wiping away blood, Oscar grabbed rubbing alcohol to clean the cuts. He didn't need to remind Morris that this would sting. He had gone through this enough times to know.

But that didn't stop him from hissing when his brother pressed the alcohol to a fresh cut. 

“Sorry, sorry,” The older of the two kept apologizing every time Morris made a noise of pain.

He had to do this almost every other day. He can't deny that he’s the favorite of the two, at least in Wiesel’s eyes. Oscar rarely got beaten by Wiesel, while Morris got hit or yelled at all the time. 

He knows that it’s because Morris is the more emotional of the duo. It’s because Morris doesn't want to go beat up Romeo, or Buttons, or anyone else. Wiesel makes him, and Morris hates it. This results in beatings. Morris never learns. Of course, Oscar can't say that he enjoys beating up the newsies, but he knows better than to disobey.

When the last cut is bandaged, Oscar takes his younger brother in his arms, carrying him to his bed. Morris fell asleep almost right away, which made Oscar smile a little. His brother was okay, at least for now.


End file.
